


Symmetrically Inclined

by gentlemindedlostgirl



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, But not really though, Dirty Talk, Eventual Smut, M/M, Slow Burn, drunk tim cant control himself, dubious views on pride and prejudice, making out in bars
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-02-23 17:49:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13195371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gentlemindedlostgirl/pseuds/gentlemindedlostgirl
Summary: Wayne Publishing House's two most popular authors, Jason Todd and Tim Drake, are forced to go on a shared book tour. Things do not go quite as planned.(AKA: The Authors AU nobody asked for)





	1. Calm(-ish) Before the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-write of a fic I wrote many years ago but never published here. Updated to fit my writing style. I'll post here as I edit, and if people like it enough I'll keep going!
> 
> But please, if you want to see more, you need to let me know!

"There is no way in fucking hell I'm doing a book tour with Drake," Jason spat adamantly, his arms crossed over his chest. And Jason knows--he knows he shouldn’t be talking to his manager this way. Bruce Wayne is the man that keeps Jason’s books on the shelves and money in his bank account. But he can’t help himself when Bruce requests--no, demands such an absurd thing. There were very few things Jason Todd wouldn't do in the name of his writing, but spending more than ten minutes with Tim Drake was one of them. 

Bruce didn't falter. He looked at Jason with the same stony, impossible to read expression that he always has. "Either you do the book tour with Tim, or you don't do it at all," he replied, his tone cool and serious.

Jason’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding me. You have to be kidding me. This is a prank, it’s to get back at me for getting too drunk at Damian’s last book release party, isn’t it? You know that vase didn’t get thrown by me, and I have to be five shots in to deal with the little punk.”  


Bruce shook his head, “I’m not joking, although that whole scene was ridiculous, and most publishers would have dropped you on the spot for that. But I didn’t, because I like you. Listen, this makes sense. This is the last book in your series, it’s the first book in Tim’s. You two are the most popular authors we have here, the fans will go wild. It’ll be good for the company.”  


Jason gritted his teeth. Bruce was right, the symmetry was obvious. His most popular series was ending...Tim’s was just starting. And Bruce had already advised Jason to take a year or two off from writing in order to refresh himself, come up with new ideas, maybe release a new book within three years. Jason was to go find a cabin in the woods somewhere, pull a Thoreau, and live deliberately. Tim, on the other hand. Tim would be releasing a new book every year for at least three years, but he knew Tim could make Bruce stretch it to seven if the fans liked it. And they would. By the time Jason got back in the game, Tim Drake would be at the height of his career. And Jason couldn’t help but feel like Bruce was changing him out for the younger, hotter model.

Tim was--loathe as Jason was to admit it--hot. He was young, sleek, perfectly put together in whatever ridiculous suit Bruce wanted him in. He was good at relating to the younger fans in a way Jason never had been. His social media presence was insane, and he was good at pleasantries with the more elder elite, where Jason would usually snap sarcastic remarks and get himself uninvited from things. 

“It won’t be great for the company if I rip his head off in the middle of an interview,” Jason replied. And he would, there was no doubt in his mind about it. Tim had the absolute worst opinions about everything. If Jason had to hear him babble one more time about why The Great Gatsby is so romantic, Jason would strangle him. Or maybe he'd strangle himself. Whatever came to mind at the time. 

"The situation stands, Jason,” Bruce continued. “Either you do the tour with Tim, or you don't do it at all. Tim has already promised to be nothing but cordial towards you." 

Jason scoffed, "Oh, I'm sure he has." Of course he did. Tim was a golden boy. He’d assured Bruce that he would be perfectly fucking civil, and it would make Jason look like the bad guy if he didn’t comply as well. He paused for a while. As much as he did not want to spend this much time around Tim, he didn't want to disappoint his readers by canceling the tour more. He’d already received thousands of tweets about how excited they were, showing him pictures of their tickets. His fans meant the world to him. Plus, it would give Drake the satisfaction of knowing he got to him. Jason wouldn't have any of that.

"I'll do the tour,” he said finally, “but I'm not responsible for any casualties." 

*************

Meanwhile, in the editor’s offices, they’re taking bets.

"So, Jason and Tim touring together across the country for a month. Who's placing bets?" Bart popped his gum and looked over the manuscript he was supposed to be copyediting. He’s having a hard time focusing, always has. The endless black on white made him want to fall asleep. He still couldn’t understand why he took this job most of the time, but the pay was good and he got to make sure people’s books didn’t suck.

"Five bucks says they have hate-sex first night in the hotel," Kon said from his laptop, presumably writing an email to Tim explaining why no, he could not ask that the hotel had the specific kind of k-cups he wanted. He loved Tim, he really did, but the boy had a problem. 

Steph rolled her eyes. She was sipping at her coffee, opting to take a ten minute break from her own manuscript. "No way. Jason's way too prideful to admit he's got the hots for him. And Tim, detective writer extraordinaire, notices everything but the very clear signals from Jay. I'm saying it will be a lot of shouting due to misplaced sexual frustration. Then they'll get it out of their system halfway through the second week." 

“This is going to be a nightmare,” Kon said, looking up at his fellow editors.

“I know, I can’t wait,” Bart grinned, already bookmarking #DrakeToddBookTour (god, had Jason seen that yet? How much did he scream that his name wasn’t first?) so that he could check it whenever he got bored.

"Honestly, what was Bruce thinking?" Cass was furiously crossing out lines in the manuscript she was working on. How some of these people managed to get book deals was beyond her. “The man’s too smart to know that this won’t end in chaos. Why would he do this to himself, to the company?” 

None of them could really answer that question. Bruce Wayne was a man none of them truly understood, and figured no one ever would. But there was one thing they could all agree on: it would be a miracle if Jason and Tim both came out of it alive.


	2. Los Angeles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason and Tim make their first tour stop in Los Angeles, California. And things could not have gone worse if they tried.

"Awkward" is the word someone who didn't know better would have used to describe the plane ride out from Gotham to LA. The average bystander who had never heard of Jason or Tim in their lives would have seen Jason and Tim sit next to each other in stone-cold silence for five hours, watched as they stole glances--or perhaps "glares" would be a better word--and they would have said that the situation seemed "awkward". 

 

Awkward is not the word Tim Drake would use. Tim couldn't even think of a single word in all of his thesaurus mind to describe that plane ride. (A few choice phrases to describe his "companion", but not the plane ride itself.) Sure, as far as he figured, he hated Jason Todd. Anyone who followed the both of them on twitter could see that. But he also kind of respected him, which made things hard. And then there was the fluttering in his chest, which made things impossible. 

 

Because God knows Tim hates Shakespeare with a burning passion. Tim thinks Shakespeare is lofty, and boring, and irrelevant to the modern day. But somehow watching Jason with his tattered copy of Much Ado About Nothing made him feel warm. He could see glimpses of highlighted passages and underlined words and he could tell that Jason's mind was working hard, trying to find things he may have missed the first dozen times he read it. For Jason Todd, there was no such thing as light reading. He had to scrutinize every word and punctuation, and that drove Tim  _ mad.  _

 

But at the same time, he knew Jason probably had every line memorized. He knew every metaphor, every motif. He could tell you things about that play that would probably be news to the Bard himself. And it was halfway endearing, halfway kind of sexy. But Tim would never admit to that. There were a lot of things Tim would never admit to, at least out loud. He wouldn't admit to knowing the color of Jason's eyes by heart, or knowing all of his nervous habits (like the way he chewed on the inside of his cheek, which he was doing when they finally landed in LA. Was Jason Todd scared of flying? Or was he scared of crashing?), and definitely not that although he hated Jason, he also might be a little bit in love with him. 

 

******

 

The first book signing in LA was the worst one on the entire tour. They didn’t even need to do the other ones to know that this was the truth. The signing itself went fine, they didn't talk to each other at all. Instead, they engaged with their fans and were surprised to see more often than not, their fans overlapped. How the people that seemed to be obsessed with Jason’s science fantasy were the same people gushing over Tim’s detective stories was beyond the both of them. No, the signing went perfectly.

 

It was the panel afterwards that was a mess. 

 

A well-meaning fan asked Tim's opinion on  _ Catcher In The Rye _ , and Jason was already gripping white-knuckled at the edge of the table.  _ Catcher  _ was  _ his  _ book. Everyone knew that. His twitter bio was a quote from the goddamn book, for chrissake. Tim had the worst opinions on everything when it came to good literature. He didn’t want to hear what the answer would be. And then there was Tim Drake, who thought he was funny when he said:

 

"Aw man, I love that book.” His smile was charming and charismatic. But Jason could see the glint of mischief in his eyes that he knew was going to make him hate the young man for the rest of the tour. He looked Jason in the eye as he spoke, a stupid smirk on his face. “The way he just," he clenched his fist so the audience could see, "Catches all that rye." 

 

The audience laughed, but Jason stood up, nearly flipping the entire table over in the process. He couldn't remember what, exactly, he shouted at Tim. He was seeing red. He was too busy defending Holden Caulfield to care that the room had gone uncomfortably quiet, and that Tim was still laughing while he was in his hot rage. Tim started shouting back--not aggressively, just shouting so that he could be heard over Jason, and his ease in the situation just pissed Jason off  _ more-- _ that Jason was being too serious and, "God, can't you take a joke, old man?" 

 

He did remember calling Tim a "Hemingway loving piece of shit", though. That's when Jason was pulled away from the panel and was not allowed to speak for the rest of it. That's when he got the call from Bruce. He couldn't do that again, or anything like it, or Jason would be banned from the rest of the tour. Jason made the case that none of this would have happened if Bruce had given him his own tour, like he deserved, but that was the end of the discussion. Jason was not to make a laughing stock of the company, or there would be threats of him not being invited back after his hiatus. Jason couldn’t  _ not  _ be writing, so that settled it. He’d be civil with Tim Drake.

 

******

Jason was unusually quiet at the next panel two days later, also in LA. As much as he hated Tim, he loved his craft more. And if he had to grind his teeth through panels with him to keep Bruce happy and continue to tour, he would do it. 

 

But even Bruce couldn't stop him from fighting with Tim outside of the panels. 

 

The two fought everywhere. In the streets, in the hotel (they nearly got kicked out that night), and especially on twitter. Their passive and not-so-passive aggression towards each other on social medias would impress even the shadiest of gossip magazines. Jason was bad at twitter. He didn’t get it, he didn’t like it. He used it only because it was kind of necessary these days in order to make fans care. He didn’t tweet much, usually just spending his time on it scrolling through before bed. When he did tweet, it was usually to make fun of Tim.

 

@TimDrakesTales: Authors: the only people who can successfully convert caffeine into literature. 

 

     @JayToddTweets: @TimDrakesTales: Is that what you're calling it these days?

 

The fans ate it up. Two of their favorite authors were constantly at each other's throats. Some fans took sides, being either "Team Todd" or "Team Tim". Some fans stood somewhere in the middle, loving both authors equally. The fans never got into overly heated discussions, not the way their authors did. Some fans went so far as to insisting the two were soulmates. (Jason definitely  _ did not _ read any of the JayTim fanfiction these kids wrote....and furthermore it's not like any of them were  _ that  _ good anyway. But if he did, hypothetically, he would pretend he hated every second.)

 

But he was civil in the panels, plastering on a fake smile as Tim talked. He gritted his teeth through whatever ridiculous thing he talked about with this fans. (Jason Todd, by the end of the second panel, could tell you more about the case of Jonbenet Ramsey than he  _ ever  _ gave two shits to know). And Jason Todd was not an idiot. He didn’t silently revel in the spark Tim got in his eyes when he talked the details true crime. He didn’t wonder how this kid kept all of those facts and figures in his head. Nor did he  _ want  _ to know how Tim knew how long its takes for someone to completely digest pineapple. No, he completely ignored Tim during the panel.

 

And to his credit, Tim did the same. Tim would listen to Jason’s long-winded discussion on metaphors and the importance of balancing reality with your fantasy when writing in his genre. And Tim was also not an idiot. He wasn’t in awe about how the man in front of him had spent the past five years completely creating a world from scratch just using his brain. He didn't ask himself the kind of grieving process he must be going through, knowing that he would never write another one of these books again. He didn’t wonder how many sleepless nights he had spent writing laws for cities that didn’t exist, or debating on ethical codes for creatures on planets we would never colonize. He kept his mind on his own work, his own fans, his own writing. 

 

But when they left the panel and were in the car on the way to their hotel...Tim had to ask. He’d never been good at keeping his mouth shut, especially not when it was the best thing for him to be doing. Jason hadn’t said one even  _ half  _ mean word to him since they’d walked into the music hall they’d had their panel, and he knew one wrong word could throw that all away. But he had to ask. 

 

“Why invent new worlds?” Tim asked, looking to Jason. 

 

Jason smiled. He fucking  _ smiled.  _ “To give people some ideas on how we can fix the one we’re currently on.”

  
The answer shut Tim up for the rest of the ride. He wanted to chatter away, he wanted to admit that he hated the genre, but had read every single one of his books. Something was compelling Tim to tell Jason that he was  _ good.  _ He didn’t. That would mean admitting defeat, and it was only day two of touring. He wasn’t ready to give everything up yet. But he might be soon, and that terrified him.


	3. What Happens in Vegas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a layover in Vegas before the authors head to Austin. And of all the bars in the city, they end up in the same one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the positive feedback! It's very encouraging and I'm glad you guys are liking it so far. Keep the kudos and comments coming!
> 
> I wasn't sure about altering the rating, but I figured it was better safe than sorry. Plus, I have an idea of where these two are going, and it's gonna get more obscene in the future. Wish I was sorry about it.
> 
> (Tim's "You're in a cult, call your dad" and "stay out of the fucking woods" comments courtesy of the "My Favorite Murder" podcast)

They had a layover in Vegas. They got to spend one night there before they got on the plane bright and early the next day to go to Austin, Texas. Jason didn’t know  _ who  _ arranged this stop, but he wanted to buy them a beer. This was exactly what he needed. He needed some time to himself, talking to people who had no idea who he was and would never see him again. People he didn’t have to impress. Schmoozing had always been Tim’s area of expertise, not Jason’s. So being able to talk to people without worrying about every word that came out of his mouth was a blessing.

 

Jason had been hoping to get a few drinks in him to help him unwind (they’d only done one stop, and he was already stressed out). But of course, out of all the bars or clubs in Vegas, the two authors happened to choose the same one. He literally bumped into Tim Drake. The groan he let out probably woke up half the city. 

 

Tim was oblivious to Jason’s negative reaction, all smiles, obviously already buzzed at the very least. His voice is light and airy, and goddamnit, Jason thinks it’s almost  _ adorable.  _  "C'mon, Jay, play nice. We're not working right now." Jason can tell Tim has probably already jumped to hard liquor, or he wouldn’t be talking to him like they’d been friends for years. It almost made Jason uncomfortable, the idea that he could be someone Tim could  _ let go  _ around.

 

Maybe it was the beer goggles, or maybe it was the suppressed feelings Jason knew were there but chose to ignore, maybe it was a lot of things. But right now Jason was noticing how Tim's eyes were a bit more gray than blue in this light. He noticed the crinkles by his eyes when he laughed. He almost got  _ angry  _ when he noticed that Tim was fiddling with a mint in his mouth, his tongue running over it as he switched its position. Jason tried not to think about some of the  _ other  _ things he’d like to see that mouth doing. Instead, he thought about how he might describe Tim's physical appearance if he were a character in his book. 

 

_ The cocky smirk on his face didn't excuse the fact that his personality was sometimes hard to bear, but it did make it a little easier.  _  The thing that Jason was known for in his writing was description. The Sci-Fi writer made sure his readers could vividly imagine even the most abstract of concepts. It was necessary when you were describing places that audiences weren’t already at least partially familiar with. It was why his books were so goddamn  _ long. _ One of his major complaints about Tim's writing is his lack of description. The crime writer never describes anything past what's necessary, and it drives Jason crazy. However, where Jason can sometimes struggle with dialogue, it's where Tim thrives. It's always witty, and well thought-out, and each character has a very distinct voice. The characters each talk like individual  _ people. _ Jason was more than a little bit jealous on that part. 

 

"I'm not drunk enough for this," Jason mutters as he takes a long sip of his second beer. This was a Tim he hadn't met yet. Tim was careful not to drink more than a glass of wine at any release parties they went to--perhaps to compensate for Jason’s pregaming. But this wasn’t Golden Boy Tim. This was Tim letting loose. This was Tim with his walls down. Jason wasn't sure if he was fully prepared for that. 

 

Tim just laughed. And he pulled Jason back towards the bar and promised to fix that quick. Jason wanted to walk away. He knew what he was like when he got drunk, how loose his lips would get. And there were things he was not ready to say to Tim. But he could also not turn down free drinks. So when Tim bought them both tequila shots, he wanted to roll his eyes, but took them anyway. Of  _ course  _ Tim was a tequila man. Would he ever  _ not  _ have questionable taste?

 

Jason lost track of the shots he was taking. And that was dangerous--both for his bank account and his relationship with Tim Drake. Because the longer they talked...the more he kind of liked him. The less he thought his opinions sucked. Jason had never heard Tim laugh so much in one night. And he hadn’t expected to learn so much about him. Like the fact that he wrote detective stories because he wanted to teach civilians how to stay just a little bit safer. (Though his phrasing lost its severity when he said things like, “So if you’re in a cult, call your dad” and “just stay out of the fucking woods”). 

 

And Jason didn’t know how it happened, the memory was still kind of a blur. But somewhere between shots, Tim trying to make Jason dance, and nearly getting into a bar-fight about the symbolism in  _ To Kill A Mockingbird _ , Tim slammed his lips into Jason's. And "slam" isn't a word Jason uses lightly, he thought it was cliche and he never liked it when other authors described kisses like that. But that's what happened. The kissing they did that night was sloppy, hasty, needy,  _ filthy _ . Tim Drake kissed like he was a dying man looking for salvation. His hands ran over Jason’s body in the darkest corner of that bar like he just might find it somewhere under Jason’s shirt or below his waistband. 

 

Jason Todd was terrified about the way Tim could so easily make him feel like he was the most important man in the world. When their feverish kisses broke and Tim looked up at him, those eyes were  _ starving.  _ Tim did not have to ask Jason to bring him up to his hotel room with his words. Those blue-gray eyes were doing all the begging necessary.

 

Jason couldn’t give into that--no matter how much he wanted to. If Tim asked out loud, if he heard the lust-driven voice ask him to take him out of here, Jason would have done it in a heartbeat. That would have broken him. But he had to have some resolve. God, they weren’t even at the second stop on the tour yet and Tim already had him on the edge of disaster. He couldn’t sleep with him. But he could kiss him. It felt like a compromise. Jason could let Tim press his whole weight against him as he moved his lips to Jason’s neck. Drunk Tim is  _ obscene,  _ and for a little while, Jason doesn’t care. He allowed himself to run his hands over the smooth planes of Tim’s body. He lets himself smirk when Tim gasps as he grips the smaller boy’s ass. He relishes in the little mewls that come out of the younger man’s mouth when Jason bites at his shoulder. And Jason knows he’s in too deep, but he lets it happen. 

 

Jason makes sure Tim gets back to his hotel room safe. Tim’s arm is wrapped around his shoulders, and he practically  _ carries  _ Tim there. Usually it’s Jason that needs to be urged out of places, so he doesn’t  _ hate  _ doing it for Tim this time around. He leaves the hotel trash can next to Tim’s bed, leaves a gatorade and a bottle of painkillers on the nightstand. And Tim’s already half-asleep when Jason is about to leave, but those  _ stupid  _ eyes look over to him, and that  _ stupid  _ mouth of his is smiling when he says, “Thanks, Jay, I had a real good time.”

  
Jason Todd goes next door to his own room. And he definitely does  _ not  _ need to take a cold shower. And the cold shower definitely  _ works.  _ And he definitely does  _ not  _ touch himself that night thinking about the fact that Tim Drake rolls his hips like a goddamn porn star. 


	4. Austin & Dallas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Austin goes TOO well. Never fear, Dallas makes up for it. (AKA, Bart knows something up, and someone throws a water bottle.)

 

Jason's head was throbbing for the entire plane ride to Austin. It was six AM, Jason and Tim hadn’t looked each other in the eye since they’d seen each other at four, and he had no idea how he was going to manage the panel later in the day. How could he talk to Tim if he couldn’t even _look_ at him without thinking about the way his hands had run over his body the previous night?

 

And then there was the fact that he couldn't stop staring at Tim's lips.

 

Adjectives ran though Jason's head on the plane. He couldn't look at Tim without his ears burning. But _god_ those lips. Those lips did things to Jason that he didn't imagine were possible. His fingers were shaking, he did the only thing he could think of to keep them busy.

 

He pulled out the new notebook he bought in the airport, a pen, and started writing. He wrote three pages about the curvature of those lips, and how they had fit perfectly with his own. Another two pages about how his arms were too small to be so strong, and yet, he had felt kind of secure in them. A final page about how he smiled with his eyes. How in the bad lighting of a Vegas bar, they reminded him of Vermont mountain skies in late February. Half a page dedicated to his hands; his long, delicate pianist fingers and how they tangled in his hair when they kissed. How they traced down his jawline and sent sparks through his skin. Jason wasn’t a poet by any means, but he could have written sonnets about how Tim Drake kissed.

 

Had he not fallen asleep on the plane, he just might have.

 

******

The Austin panel went off without a hitch, as most people would see it. Jason and Tim didn't fight once. In fact, they were friendly with each other. They had finally gained the ability to look at each other without turning red, and they were making jokes with each other. They were making the audience laugh in a way they hadn’t in Los Angeles.

 

Jason even went to far as to _compliment_ Tim’s writing, which was something Tim could never recall him doing in the past. That left him speechless for at least five solid minutes while Jason answered questions. Jason Todd thought he was good. Jason, who had been the top seller at Wayne Publishing since he started writing, thought Tim, the upstart, was good. He didn’t think Jason would ever know how much that meant to him, but he was also certainly never going to tell him that either.

 

To most people, this would be seen as a good thing. Great, even. Whatever feud seemed to be happening between the two authors must have ended. Things could go back to normal, they could behave like rational people. Bart knew better than that.

 

The editor called his friend after reading enough tweets about it to know something was either very wrong, or very right. Bart didn't even need to say hello. The second Tim picked up the phone, he was on a roll.

 

"So did you fuck him, or what?"

 

There was shock in Tim's voice on the other end, "Bart, what are you talking about?"

 

"I'm going through the Austin panel hashtag on twitter,” he hummed, scrolling on his laptop as he read thousands of fangirls tweeting about how _cute_ the two of them had acted, complete with quotes and pictures of Jason with his arm around Tim’s shoulders. “And it's all about how nice you and Jay were to each other. So either Bruce threatened you two senseless, or you fucked him. Which one was it?"

 

Tim hesitated. He was very aware of the fact that Jason was in the hotel room next door, and more aware of how thin the walls were. He lowered his voice, even though he was sure Jason couldn’t hear if he spoke at his normal volume. Tim was paranoid, he couldn’t help himself. "I didn't _fuck_ him--"

 

"But?" there was an edge of curiosity in Bart’s tone.

 

" _But_ we got drunk in Vegas and I...may have...thrown myself at him." Tim wasn’t _proud_ of it. He woke up the next morning with the taste of cigarettes and stale tequila in his mouth. The tequila he could explain away...but Tim didn’t smoke. The memories came to him slowly as he got ready for the day and onto the plane, and he had been _mortified._ Which was also why he was so surprised that Jason had been so kind to him after that. What was going _on_ in that man’s head right now?

 

He could hear the familiar sound of Steph letting out a triumphant "YES!" In the background.

Tim grimaced, "Bart am I on speakerphone?"

 

"--Steph SHUT UP--What? No. I wouldn't do that to you."

 

"Hi Tim!" He heard Kon a bit further away. Bart groaned in frustration. Stupid goddamn snitch friends acting like they hadn’t been planning this phone call for the last hour.

 

Under other circumstances, Tim would have laughed about this. But right now he was too busy having an identity crisis for that. This was a _sensitive issue_ and he would have appreciated some empathy. "You're an ass, and I'll deal with you when I get back to Gotham."

 

"Not if you want that sequel edited in a timely fashion." Tim didn’t have to see Bart’s smirk to know it was there.

 

"I haven't even finished _writing_ it yet," Tim said, frustrated. "And anyway that's not the point. What is the point is that I made out with Jason Todd and now I'm questioning all of my life choices."

 

"It's simple," Steph said, coming closer to the phone. "You take your foot out of your mouth and fess up to having feelings for him."

 

"I don't have _feelings_ for him, Steph,” Tim denied indignantly. “That was a one time thing. I made out with him, I was sexually frustrated, he was there. It’ll never happen again."

 

She wasn't convinced, "Really?"

 

Tim groaned and flopped down onto his bed. "Hell if I know."

 

"Master novelist, detective extraordinaire, Tim Drake," Kon said, clearly trying to hold back laughter some distance away from the phone.

 

They finally came to the consensus that if he was still thinking endlessly about him during the Dallas panel tomorrow, he would at least have to think about telling Jason about it. (Which they editors all knew Tim would never do, but they could have stayed up all night talking about this, and Tim needed to be fueled by sleep _as well_ as his four cups of coffee for this stupid panel.)

 

Tim grabbed his new, empty notebook and started scribbling. He’d bought this journal just for the tour. He’d originally planned for it to be a travel diary of sorts, maybe paste some pictures in there. It was his first book tour, and he wanted to remember every second. He didn’t mean for it to become a notebook of letters he’d never send to Jason Todd.

 

_October 2nd_

 

 _We were on the plane to Austin. I wanted to say I was sorry for throwing myself at you. I was drunk and you just looked so good and I’ve never been one for self-control. You might not believe me if I said that. I wanted to ask if you felt it too, that something was_ there _. I couldn’t bring myself to admit it. What the hell were you writing so feverishly that entire flight?_

*******

 

Tim threw a water bottle at Jason during the Dallas panel.

 

Someone had asked about the symbolism in Jason's book, and Tim knew this wasn't going to be a short explanation. Jason's eyes lit up, and a small smile crossed his face. And while it was _really freaking cute,_ he really didn't feel like sitting through another Jason Todd lecture on the symbolism of flowers or whatever.

 

So five minutes later, Tim _very politely_ asked if they could move on, as they had limited time. Jason shot him one of the worst death-glares he had ever seen in his life.

 

"Well I'm sorry there's more substance to my writing than 'who did it'?"

 

That was the last straw. Any good feelings he had for Jason were out the window. Nobody insults his writing like that. How could he? After he thought they were making progress. When he actually would have admitted out loud that he _liked_ the guy. It was a deeper wound than Jason had meant to cause, and he immediately regretted it (though his expression was no indicator of that). That was when Tim threw the water bottle.

 

The entire crowd gasped. Jason just stared at Tim for a while before saying, "I'm sorry my friend here is such a child."

 

On the one hand, Tim was fuming about having his writing insulted and then being called a child. He wasn't even that much younger than Jason, the entitled prick. On the other hand, Jason had called him his friend. If there was one thing he knew for certain, it was that Jason chooses his words very carefully. There are no accidents with him. If he said it, he meant it.

 

And though he was glad to no longer be "that asswipe over there", or “my replacement”, there was a pang in his chest. He didn't want to be Jason Todd's friend. Not after Vegas. He wanted to be his lazy morning kisses, writing together on Sunday afternoons. He wanted all of that, and so much more.

 

*****

 

Jason knows he has to make up for what he said at the panel. It was uncalled for, and ruder than even _he_ would normally step. He could insult Tim’s personality, or fashion choices, or eating habits all he wanted. But his craft, his livelihood. It had been too far. He’s sitting in his hotel room, fingers drumming against his knee as he tries to figure something out.

 

He pulls out his phone and texts Tim (whose contact name was changed from _Replacement_ to _Drake_ just before getting on the plane to Austin).

 **Jason:** Hey. Earlier. I shouldn’t have said that. I know better. I don’t know what got into me.

 

He’s worried Tim won’t answer. He wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t. But not even five minutes pass before his phone buzzes.

 

 **Drake:** The fans love the rivalry. You played into it. I get it.

 

But he _knows_ Tim now, and he doesn’t need to hear him say it to know he’s still hurt. And the fact that he doesn’t want Tim to hurt makes him almost angry.

 

 **Jason:** I went too far. I’ll make it up to you. I’m sorry.

 

 **Drake:** I don’t think you’ve said sorry to me once in the two years I’ve known you.

 

 **Jason:** Yeah, well, don’t get used to it.


	5. New Orleans ain't Vegas (but it'll have to do)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Authors have a stop in New Orleans, Tim answers incorrectly to "which version of Pride and Prejudice is your favorite?", and this time, Tim doesn't need to be drunk to get what he wants. (Aka: the idiots finally sleep together)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you for the incredible feedback! Chapters will be coming a little slower now than they had been before because I've run out of writing I was just editing and now have to write all new stuff. Hopefully I can get a chapter up a couple times a week, depending on chapter length!
> 
> This is also my first time publishing smut, so please bear with me, I'm still shy about it.
> 
> (Does this tour route make sense? No, but shush).

Once again, Jason really wanted to find out just who was in charge of these tour stops. They didn’t always make sense, they seemed to zig-zag a bit as time goes on. But Jason Todd is in New Orleans. And it’s no Mardi Gras, but he’s determined to have a good time. (And  _ not  _ be hungover during a panel. Never again). 

 

And this time, having a good time means fulfilling his promise to Tim that he was going to make things up to him. He hasn’t quite sorted out how he’s going to do it yet, but he figures he’s got a couple of hours while Tim settles into his hotel room to figure it out. He resisted the impulse to text his friend, Dick Grayson. But Dick’s back in Hollywood on some film set, and filming means Jason’s never sure when Dick will be able to text back. (Not that the idiot is _better_ at answering his texts in a timely fashion when he’s not filming, anyway). 

 

So because he can’t think of anything else, he invites Tim out for drinks again. This time when they meet up, they’re both sober. And they make an agreement that they’re not going to drink anything but beers. They don’t say  _ because of Vegas,  _ but they know it’s there. But Jason says he’s paying, and he even offers to buy them food. Jason claims it’s because he’s starving and doesn’t feel like eating bar food, but it means that instead of a loud bar, the two of them find themselves out for dinner, trying some of the authentic food from the area...in a tourist trap, sure. But it’s the thought that counts. 

 

It’s a bit gaudy, and cliche, the place they finally manage to find a table in. And it’s probably going to cost Jason more than he planned on paying that night. But the food is incredible. Halfway through their meal of gumbo (because if they’re going to play tourist, they’re not going to do it half-assed), Tim looks up at Jason and chuckles.

“You know, I think this is the first thing I’ve eaten this whole tour that hasn’t come from a packet.”

 

Jason drops his spoon into the bowl. And  _ yeah  _ it clatters a little louder than he would have liked it to. A couple of heads turn their way but Jason doesn’t care because how the  _ fuck  _ is this kid still  _ alive?  _

 

“Tim, we’ve been on this tour for about  a  _ week  _ now. What the hell did you eat this whole time?”

 

Tim shrugs like it’s nothing and eats another spoonful before answering. “Ah, a lot of like, dollar ramen from the hotel general store type areas? Canned soups, that kind of thing.”

 

Jason sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He knew Tim was bad a taking care of himself, he did not know he was  _ this  _ bad a it. “We’ve been to places where you can get real, fresh made food around the corner...and you’ve been eating dollar ramen?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“You’re an even bigger idiot than I thought,” Jason says, but he’s chuckling through it. 

 

“Well what do  _ you  _ eat, then?” Tim countered like he thought he was going to win an argument here. 

 

“The hotels have kitchenettes. I’ve cooked, a couple of times.” Jason shrugged. “If we’re going to be somewhere more than just one night.”

 

Tim tries not to think about the mental image of Jason in the shitty hotel kitchens making whatever he could find in the little convenience stores. Or did he go so far as to go to actual  _ supermarkets  _ in town so he could make himself real meals?

 

“We stay in places for two nights max, what the hell are you cooking?” he asked curiously. “Not like you can bring groceries around on the plane and stuff.”

 

“Pasta’s not hard and doesn’t take too much. Or chicken and rice. Not hard, intense stuff. But it means I can eat like a normal goddamn person.” He shook his head. “You know what? If I’m cooking, I’ll text you. I usually have extras. Instead of throwing it away, I’ll make sure Bruce doesn’t accuse me of your murder when you drop dead of a sodium overdose.”

 

Tim tries not to grin like an idiot. But he wants to. Jason Todd is inviting him to regular dinners. Regular dinners that he’s going to be  _ cooking  _ for him. He didn’t even know Jason could cook before. But now he can imagine standing against the wall and talking shit with Jason while he works over the stove and it’s...almost  _ domestic.  _ But instead of talking about how nice that sounds, he jokes about it instead because it’s all he can do to keep from melting. 

 

“It’s nice to know you care about my health,” he teases. 

 

Jason scoffed. “It’s until we get back to Gotham, don’t think I’ll be cooking for you forever.”

 

Tim doesn’t say that he wouldn’t hate it if he did. But he thinks it.

 

**************

 

The first time Jason Todd ever cooks for Tim Drake, it’s the night after their New Orleans panel (which happened to be completely unspectacular, in terms of spectacle or dramatics. It was the most normal the two had behaved thus far, to the joy of the management of Wayne Publishing and the dismay of the fans). 

 

Jason had never been nervous to cook before. But he’d also never had to cook for other people. He’d learned how to make passable food, it wasn’t anything to write home about, but it tasted good enough. And it had more nutrients in it than taco bell and cup-o-soups. Still, he’d never had someone so  _ snarky  _ around before who could tell him that he sucked. Needless to say, the idea didn’t thrill him. 

 

But Tim is happy as can be. This is  _ just  _ how he imagined it in the restaurant last night. He was leaning against a wall while Jason pan-grilled chicken and water went to a boil for pasta. And Jason looks focused. He’s only ever watched Jason write during this tour, but the older man has the same level of concentration on his face. Jason calls  _ him  _ a control freak, but he’s cooking like he has something to prove.

 

He also happens to be  _ furious,  _ but that’s Tim’s fault. 

 

“Tim, as far as I’m concerned, there has never been a wrong answer to ‘which version of  _ Pride and Prejudice  _ is your favorite?’ Colin Firth is an inspired choice, and  _ was  _ mine, until the 2005 came out--it’s the scene, with the hand, you know what I’m talking about?  _ That  _ scene changed it. I would have  _ even  _ accepted YouTube’s  _ The Lizzie Bennett Diaries  _ because the character choices are spot on for modern day issues.  _ Pride and Prejudice: And Zombies,  _ as it turns out, is the  _ only  _ wrong answer.”

 

Tim just laughed and normally that would make things worse, but now it’s just amusing. “Oh come on, Jason, get that Austen-sized stick out of your ass and let people have  _ fun  _ with literature. You gotta admit that she’s a little tough to digest for today’s readers, the zombies add a level of intrigue.”

 

Jason turned around and pointed a very accusatory set of tongs at him. “No, no excuses there because  _ Lizzie Bennett Diaries  _ marries the contemporary with the classic in a way that makes perfect sense. And she’s  _ vlogging!”  _

 

“Yeah, well, I’ve never seen the 2005,” Tim shrugs. 

 

Jason stopped what he was doing to look over at him. “Never? Not even once?” Because of  _ course  _ he hasn’t. Of course Tim Drake has never thought  _ once  _ to watch the cinematic masterpiece that is that film. He shook his head and turned back to his cooking. “I’m not letting you go back to Gotham without having seen it, so we can eat on the couch, even break open the minibar. I’m not letting you disgrace me like that anymore.”

 

So in a few minutes, Tim and Jason are sitting on the couch and eating lemon chicken pasta (which actually tastes delicious, Tim notes. Granted, he’s always been a cheap date. But Jason Todd is a better cook than he’ll let people think he is. He tells Jason it’s ‘not half bad’, and that seems to satisfy him) and watching Pride and Prejudice. And Tim won’t tell Jason that he’s actually...really enjoying the movie. (The scene. Where he helps her with the carriage. The  _ hand.  _ Jason was right about it. But of course Jason’s favorite scene in the whole film is two seconds of subtext). 

 

And Jason barely looks at Tim the whole movie. But Tim watches Jason. And Jason is mouthing the words to his favorite lines, and it’s what he’s doing when the film ends. He whispers the last words along with Elizabeth. And Tim doesn’t need to be drunk this time, to lean over, place his hand on the side of Jason’s face, and pull him in for a kiss. 

 

What scares Tim this time is not the action of the kissing itself. He knew what to expect, the flutter in his chest, the rush of adrenaline. But the last time Tim and Jason kissed, it was lust and passion. They needed  _ something  _ and the other was convenient. This is different. This is soft, careful, almost  _ tender.  _ And even when Jason is laying him down on the couch and starts kissing down his neck, the lust is there, and it occurs to Tim that Jason is asking for permission. Jason’s calloused hands aren’t going anywhere because he wants Tim to ask. 

 

Well, Tim can oblige to that.

 

Tim Drake’s specialty is writing dialogue. He knows how to word things to cut his audience exactly where he wants. So when  _ filthy  _ phrases start leaving his mouth...Jason figures he should have known from the start. And then it hits him that he’s  _ doomed.  _

 

“Please, Jason,” Tim whispers, those pianist-fingers tangled in Jason’s hair. “I  _ need  _ you.”

  
And that alone would have been enough for Jason, but the boy doesn’t  _ stop.  _ “I need your cock, Jason.” His hand slides between them to palm the outside of Jason’s jeans and a long stream of swears leave the older man’s mouth. “However you want me. I’ll suck you off, you can fuck my face...” He switches their positions so that Tim is straddling Jason, and he starts doing that thing where he rolls his hips and Jason thinks he might lose his goddamn mind. “Fuck my face nice and hard until you come down my throat. Or take my ass, pound into me and hold my hips so hard I’ll have bruises shaped like your hands tomorrow...please, Jason, you  _ want  _ to.”

He does. _ God  _ he does so bad that his throat feels almost dry. Whatever has gotten into Tim that makes him feel confident enough to take control...Jason isn’t going to complain about it. “Is all of the above an option?” he asks curiously. 

Tim smirks, god damn him. “Of course. But you’ll pay a pretty penny for that.”

“Fuck off,” Jason says, but he chuckles and gives him a kiss to promise he’ll be right back as he slinks out from under him to go into the bathroom and grab a condom and lube. He stands in the doorframe of the bedroom and living room and nods for Tim to follow him. Tim doesn’t need to be told twice. 

Their clothes are left in a trail to the bed and to say that Jason is surprised at how take-charge Tim is in the bedroom is an understatement. He practically has Jason pinned down on his back on the bed as he kisses and bites down his abdomen to get down to his aching cock. “And you--ah,  _ christ _ \--you say  _ I’m  _ the control freak,” Jason teases, though he has to keep from thrusting his hips up. 

“If you want me to give you a blow job, you’re going to have to stop making fun of me,” Tim smirks against Jason’s hip, running his hands gently down his thighs.

Jason knows, kind of, when to shut up when it’s good for him. So he keeps the snark at bay as Tim kisses up his cock and takes him into his mouth. Jason’s thought about this moment before. Hell, he’s gotten himself off to the thought of this moment before. But  _ nothing  _ compares to watching Tim bob his head, his hand wrapped around the base of his cock to meet the movements of his head. And Tim’s free hand leaves Jason’s hip and urges him to thrust up, the kinky little fuck. 

Jason tangles his fingers into Tim’s hair for leverage as he pushes his hips up into his mouth, and he knows the walls of hotels are generally thin, but he can’t keep himself from moaning out Tim’s name because  _ god  _ the boy can take a cock. He’s hardly choking or gagging and the dribble of saliva that drips down his chin is so  _ beautifully  _ dirty.

It’s when Tim looks up at him through his eyelashes that Jason realizes he can’t let this go on too long. As much as he wants to keep going, let Tim’s mouth work him until he finishes, he also doesn’t want to finish first. So he pulls Tim off of him by the hair, causing a hiss of pain and a whine to leave the younger man’s mouth. “Spoilsport,” Tim teases.

Jason moves them, flips their position so that Jason is behind them and Tim is on all fours. He slicks up his fingers with lube, kissing down Tim’s back as he pushes a finger into him and the sound Tim Drake makes is  _ ungodly  _ and makes Jason’s cock twitch. 

Jason wants to take his time in making sure that Tim is stretched enough to take him, but Tim has never been a patient man. He’s backing his hips into his hand, trying to take more of him as whimpers leave his pouty lips. “ _ Jason,  _ I can  _ take  _ it,  _ faster.”  _

Jason doesn’t want to think about the other men Tim must have slept with in order for him to know that to be true, instead he does as he’s told and slides a second finger into him, thrusting and searching for his prostate with each forward movement. Tim’s  _ whimpering  _ and practically  _ begging,  _ and Jason doesn’t think the third finger has been stretching Tim long enough for him to  _ really  _ be ready, but he turns back to look at him, and those big blue eyes are begging, and Jason can’t wait anymore. He quickly rolls on the condom, slicks himself up, and pushes slowly into him. 

Jason relishes in the sight of Tim’s back arching off the bed and the sound of  _ relief  _ that leaves his lips. Jason moves slowly, at first, waiting to make sure that Tim’s fully relaxed before he goes any further. Tim has other ideas. Tim is impatiently backing up, rocking his hips and fucking himself on Jason’s cock,  _ demanding  _ more of him. And that’s when Jason breaks and lets his reservations go out the window. He snaps his hips forward with a groan, pleasure sweeping over him as he lets himself thrust hard and deep into Tim. His hands, as Tim predicted, are gripping hard on his hips, almost pulling the boy back to meet his thrusts.

Tim was grabbing fistfulls of white hotel bedsheets, white-knuckled and desperate as his cock throbbed and ached with desire for more. Jason’s moans were low and deep, and he hadn’t expected him to pull him up for a kiss. But when their lips were moving together, and Jason was pounding hard and fast into him, Tim thought all of his strength would give out. They were sloppy, and needy, and Tim’s head is swimming and can’t focus on a single thing but the feeling of Jason inside of him when a hand wraps around his cock. 

Tim almost screams from the pleasure and can’t decide if he want to push his hips back or thrust them forward and  _ damn Jason Todd knows how to take care of him. _ They’re a mess of tangled limbs, the sounds of their moans mixed with skin against skin. Jason can feel Tim’s breathing going shorter and more static as Jason picks up the pace stroking him. He wants to watch Tim come unravelled, wants to see him panting and exhausted. 

“Jason.... _ fuck,  _ Jason,  _ please,”  _ Tim moans, kissing and biting at the parts of his shoulder that he can reach as he feels himself climbing closer to orgasm. 

“Come for me, baby,” Jason demands, not relenting on his thrusts or the hand that’s wrapped around his cock. And he’s too deep into his lust to realize he just called Tim Drake a pet name, but Tim isn’t, and it’s the swell of emotion that comes with the pleasure that sends him into climax, moaning out his name as he comes in Jason’s hand. 

Jason thinks Tim has never looked more beautiful than when he’s at the peak of ecstasy. He relaxes back into Jason as he comes down from his high, and Jason slows down his thrusts to press into his neck to ease him out of it. He can feel himself teetering on the edge when he hears Tim utter a soft “Come in my mouth.”

And Jason almost loses it at those words. Instead he quickly pulls out of him and discards the condom. And tired as Tim is, he adjusts himself and takes Jason into his mouth. He hollows his cheeks and bobs his head, Jason’s hands pulling tight at his hair. 

“ _ Tim--”  _ Jason warns, but he knows this is exactly what Tim wants, and his hips buck forward involuntarily as he finishes in Tim’s mouth.

If the most beautiful Tim has ever looked is when he’s reached orgasm, the second most beautiful he’s ever looked--dirty as it is--is when he looks up at Jason and swallows every drop, even going so far as to brush what’s on his chin onto his thumb and lick it away. Jason can’t help himself, he pulls Tim in for another kiss, and he loves the taste of himself on Tim’s tongue. They’re both spent, and smiling. And after a moment in silence like that, just sitting up in bed with their foreheads pressed against each other, Tim goes to get out of bed. 

Jason catches his wrist. “Where’re you going?”

Tim blushes and looks down at his feet. “I...my clothes, I thought I should--”

Jason shook his head. It’s his turn to have pleading eyes. “Stay.”


	6. Nashville

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason Todd does not play tourist half-assed and Bart gives Tim advice he will not take.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you so much for the positive feedback. I would not keep going if it weren't for all the kind and encouraging words!
> 
> Slightly shorter one this time, but the boys need to take things in baby steps.

If New Orleans was gaudy in certain places, Nashville was the most touristy place Jason had ever been in his life. Or at least, wherever in Nashville their tour manager had decided to place them was the most touristy place. Not that Jason minds at all. And when he decides he’s going to play tourist, he’s not going to do it half-assed. 

 

So he shows up to the Nashville panel in a flannel shirt, jeans, and sporting the most ridiculous cowboy hat Tim has ever seen. And while Tim thinks it’s probably the most adorable thing he’s seen in his entire life, he, on the other hand, is not playing along. He’s wearing his usual,  _ professional,  _ white button-down and slacks. So the two of them look absolutely absurd next to each other and the fans are eating it up. (Jason does  _ not  _ take a screenshot of a tweet of a picture of the two of them with the caption ‘get you a couple that can do both’). 

 

But if the Austin panel went good, this panel went  _ great.  _ Jason and Tim are firing jokes off each other like they’d been friends for years and  _ not  _ like Jason had almost killed him just under a week and a half ago in Los Angeles. 

 

Tim starts answering questions about Jason’s book. He tells the audience  _ his  _ favorite parts, and the things that he loved, and tells Jason that his favorite character had always been not the main heroine, but her side-character best friend. Jason had personally never liked that character as much as his protagonist. He’d found her characterization weaker, but she did seem to be a fan favorite, so he’d kept her around. When Jason asked why she was his favorite, Tim just shrugged with a grin. 

 

“Everyone loves a good sidekick.”

 

He wonders for a moment if that’s how Tim sees himself, the sidekick in this larger story. He wants to tell him that he isn’t. He wants to tell him that he is so much more than that. He wants to tell him that as much as it scares Jason shitless, he’s pretty sure Tim is his romantic lead. He doesn’t. Instead, he tells Tim that he had never considered that, but will in his future novels. And that in itself is compliment enough.

 

Jason doesn’t follow Tim on instagram because Jason does not  _ have  _ an instagram. (He can’t understand  _ twitter _ , for crying out loud). But Tim, as it turns out, had been documenting their whole trip thus far on the social media. Including the dinner that Jason had made him in New Orleans, and the one they’d had the night before. This embarrasses Jason to no end, because although he is a halfway decent cook, he doesn’t believe himself to be  _ instagram  _ worthy. Tim, of course, brushes that idea away as ridiculous and does point out that most of the food he eats is probably mostly chemicals.

 

So the discussion turned slowly away from Jason and Tim’s novels, and fans start to ask Jason about his best-kept secret: his culinary skills. What was the first thing he learned to cook? What was his favorite? What was the easiest? Tips for students on a budget? 

 

Tim now knew Jason could cook. What he didn’t know before that panel was just how much Jason  _ enjoyed  _ cooking. It wasn’t just something he picked up to keep him from starving, it was something he liked to do, and experiment with. Even if it was only him (and occasionally the illustrious actor, Dick Grayson) who ate them. It made Tim feel honored that Jason had let him in on this private part of himself. It felt intimate. Almost as intimate as--

 

“Tim, buddy, you’ve  _ got  _ to hide your hickies better next time,” Bart said on the phone, scrolling through the tour’s twitter hashtag, which is an absolute  _ goldmine _ of pictures of the two of them, many with red circles drawn around the hickeys on Tim’s neck. “If the fans noticed, it’s obvious.”

 

“Fuck,” Tim groaned, running a hand through his hair. 

 

“Yeah, I kinda gathered that was what you two were doing. Is that a regular thing now?” Bart asked. 

 

Tim sat down on the bed in his hotel room, feeling something along the lines of mortified. “If he’s cooking for me, yeah...”

 

“And do you...talk about it?”

 

Tim scoffed. “Do you know who you’re talking to and about?”

 

“Yeah that’s about what I figured,” Bart replied. “Listen, you’ve  _ got  _ to pull yourself together. As much as I’m really enjoying this soap opera play out, the ‘we’re not going to talk about it’ plot is getting really old really fast If you wrote it in one of your books, I’d tell you to speed things along or else the fans are gonna get bored.”

 

“They’re called  _ feelings  _ not  _ talkings,  _ Bart.” Tim said as if that answered any questions or problems at hand.

 

“Oh so you admit you have feelings?”

 

Tim squeezed his eyes shut.  _ Fuck.  _ “That’s not the point.”

 

“Oh it so is. And I would bother you about it more, but I’m  _ already  _ late for an editors meeting and I think Cass is already pissed off at me because Kon and I have been playing  _ a lot  _ of kpop in the office lately. So just...I dunno, you’re good with words,  _ use them. _ ” 

 

Tim hangs up because hell hath no fury like a Cass scored, and as annoyed as he was with Bart, he wouldn’t put him through that. He didn’t have time to tell Bart that he was good with words when he could write them down and had time to erase the ones he didn’t like. Speaking them out loud was a different story entirely. Bart made it sound so  _ easy.  _ Like all he had to do was walk over to Jason’s apartment and tell him the things he was thinking, and that would be the end of it, and they would live happily ever after.  And as much as he hated to admit it...Bart was kind of right. They needed to talk about...whatever this was before things got out of hand and people got hurt. And yet...he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead, he pulled out the notebook that was becoming daily letters to Jason Todd that he would never let him read. And he wrote everything out that he couldn’t bring himself to say. 

 

_ October 11 _

_ I don’t know what this is. I don’t know what we are. I want to think that I’m not some toy you’re playing with because I’m here and you’re lonely. I want to believe that this is real and that you feel the things that I feel and that I’m not crazy. I don’t know how to tell you that I don’t want this to be just dinners and sex. I don’t know how to tell you that I admire you like crazy. Or that it’s been such a pleasure to finally  _ know  _ you. Maybe this is stupid and maybe I’m not reading the signs correctly. But I want you to know that you feel more real to me than anything ever has.  _


	7. Richmond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason loses his luggage, the fans forget that they're meant to talk about the authors BOOKS during panels, and Dick Grayson has a lot of questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I say this every time, but thank you so much for the love this fic is getting! I would have stopped a long time ago if it weren't for all of that. 
> 
> We're probably at about the halfway point with their nonsensical book tour, so please keep the love coming so they can finish it off!

 

By the time the two authors got to Richmond, Virginia, Jason Todd was pretty sick of the whole touring thing. The opportunity to travel on the dime of Bruce Wayne was incredible, and he loved meeting all of the fans that made it possible for him to keep doing what he loved. But there came a time when Jason was just tired. He wanted his shitty Gotham apartment back. He wanted to be able to sleep in his own bed. He was tired of wearing the same six or so outfits because it was what he had packed. He wanted to be able to cook things with ingredients he could keep, and not just little things he knew he would have to throw away before he left for the airport.

 

And _god_ was Jason sick of airports. He had never had a problem with them before, never thought twice about them. But he had spent an awful lot of time in airports over the last week and a half, and he was sick and tired of it. He hated the whole idea of airports, and if he never had to set foot in one again, it would be too soon. It was in the airport, waiting for the car to take them to their hotel that Jason finally broke.

 

“They lost my luggage,” Jason grumbled, kicking a lost candy wrapper that was at his feet.

 

Tim almost laughed. Jason resembled a frustrated child like this, not a grown man and New York Times bestselling novelist. “Bruce will make sure it gets back to you. I’m sure you’ll have it by tonight. Calm down, Mr. Grumpypants.”

 

Jason huffed as the car pulled up. “I’m not even mad about losing like, shit I could buy again? But my favorite leather jacket was in there, and if _that’s_ gone forever? I’ll lose my goddamn mind.”

 

“Like I said,” Tim replied as they got into the car, “Bruce’s team will make sure it gets back to you. In the meantime, I bet I’ve got stuff you could borrow.”

 

*******************

 

Fans lost their minds at the Richmond signing when Jason Todd showed up in Tim Drake’s clothes. And it’s not like it was easy cover. The clothes were clearly just a _bit_ too tight on him, (not that Tim was complaining in the _slightest_ ) and anyone looking at pictures of the past panels could see that they were the same clothes Tim had worn previously. If the fans didn’t think the two of them were sleeping together before, they certainly did now. No matter how many times Jason tried to explain that he had just lost his luggage, the fans were kind of right...he _could_ have just bought new clothes of his own.

 

The truth of the matter was, Jason kind of _liked_ wearing Tim’s clothes. Even if they were too tight. It smelled like him, the dull scent of coffee seemed to be pressed permanently into the fabric and it made him feel...happy. It made him feel like Tim was a part of him. And that was cheesy and obnoxious, but he didn’t care. Jason was allowing himself to be happy for once. He was allowed to have something good.

 

Jason had to reel the discussion at the panels back where it was supposed to be. They were here to talk about their books, not their sex or love lives. They were supposed to be talking about Jason’s last novel, the finale in an epic five-book fantasy adventure. Or Tim’s first novel in his first ever series of works, the most incredible “whodunit” the world had seen thus far, so far as the people in the room were concerned.

 

The fans started getting creative in their way of making questions _seem_ like they were going to be about the novels, and then switch over to their personal lives.

 

“So Jason, I really loved the character arc that Lila took throughout the series, are you two single?”

 

“Tim, my question is twofold: where do you do your research for your novels, and also, how often does Jason cook for you?”

 

It was getting something in the way of ridiculous, and normally Tim didn’t mind answering questions about his personal life. But this was his first big break, and he wanted to focus on his work, not his relationship or...whatever this was with Jason. Jason could sense Tim’s frustration throughout the panel, and always managed to get the fans back on track. And that meant more to Tim than he could put into words.

 

**********

 

Dick seemed surprised, when he called Jason later that night. Dick made sure to call Jason at least once a week, no matter how busy their work schedules got. Dick didn’t like texting, he thought it was impersonal and he could never read tone right. So weekly phone calls became a must between the two workaholics in order to keep their friendship up.

 

“So twitter tells me you and Drake have been hooking up,” Dick said as he sat in his apartment in LA. “But that makes no sense because the _last_ time we spoke, you were ready to kill the kid.”

 

In Richmond, Tim Drake had just gone back to his hotel room after having dinner with Jason. Normally Tim would have stayed the night with him, but Bart was on his ass about a deadline, and Tim had to get some writing done. Jason sighed. “It’s...complicated.”

 

“Jason, either you’re having sex with him, or you’re not. That doesn’t sound too complicated to me.”

 

“Yeah, the sex isn’t the complicated part,” Jason replied as he tried to figure out how he was going to fit all of the presents his fans had given him at the panel into his suitcase (which their tour manager had tracked down, and had it sitting in the hotel room by the time Jason returned from the panel, thank _god)._

 

“Oh _shit,”_ Dick chimed, smiling on his end of the phone. “You _like_ him.”

 

“I definitely _something_ him,” Jason mumbled as he tried to shove clothes into his suitcase. “I just don’t know what that _something_ is, okay?” Despite it all, despite everything the two of them had gone through during this tour thus far, Jason wasn’t ready to admit he had actual _feelings_ for Tim Drake yet. It still felt too much like a foreign concept to him. It felt like a sign of weakness that he couldn’t show.

 

“Well, if his instagram is any indication, you’ve been cooking for him an awful lot lately,” Jason pointed out. “And you don’t cook for just anyone. I’m pretty sure before him, I was the only person who got that luxury. So that means something.”

 

“It means if I didn’t feed him a halfway decent meal, the kid would go into cardiac arrest because he doesn’t know how to take care of himself,” Jason countered. “Did I tell you he almost set his microwave on fire when we were in Tennessee? Tim’s _hopeless.”_

 

“But you called him Tim,” Dick said. “Before it was ‘Drake’ if you were feeling kind, or ‘Replacement’ if you weren’t. So I would say that shows some character growth on your part. Whatever it is, Jay, you _care.”_

 

Jason bit his lip. He did care. He cared quite a bit. And that was the part that worried him. He could do casual hookups, he could do sex, or friendship. But dating was never something he had been good at. Jason Todd had never learned how to hold something soft and keep it from breaking. As far as he was concerned, everything he touched was doomed to die. And maybe whatever this was with Tim was doomed. But if it was...he almost didn’t care. This was the first time in his life that doing something vaguely reckless and stupid might actually lead him to something that could make him happy long-term.

 

“So what if I do?” Jason asked.

 

“So _do something about it,”_ Dick replied, rolling his eyes. “Do I really have to walk you step-by-step through how to have a romantic interaction? Because I don’t want to, but I will, because I like you.”

 

“You’re an ass,” Jason said, though he was laughing.

 

He didn’t know what he would do without Dick Grayson, when it all came down to it. He had been a constant in Jason’s life since before he’d join Wayne Publishing, back when he was making no money off his writing and worked part-time as a mechanic to keep his head above water. Dick had liked him and been his friend when he was a somebody and Jason was less than dirt. A guy like that was someone to keep around for the long haul.

 

And Dick meant well when he gave advice. Dick had been in a multitude of PR and non-PR relationships in the past, so if there was anyone he could ask about how to do the romance thing right, he was probably on the phone with him in that moment. And he might have asked him what to do next if he hadn’t been interrupted.

 

Jason flushed when he heard a knock at his door and Tim’s familiar voice calling, “I can’t focus! Let me in!”

 

“Is that him?” Dick asked as he raised an eyebrow.

 

“Yeah, I’d better go,” Jason replied, already walking towards the door.

 

“Yeah, sure. But Jay? Just saying, you’ve got the biggest schoolgirl crush I’ve ever fucking seen.”


	8. Washington DC

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim geeks out at the Spy Museum, Jason realizes he needs advice, and fangirls are better detectives than people give them credit for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you for the positive feedback, it means the world, especially given some negative events going on in my real life right now.
> 
> School starts for me again next week, I'm going to do my best to get at least one chapter up before then. But once I get back into school, things are going to slow down drastically (oh education, why do you do this to me?)

Jason and Tim had a free few hours in DC before their panel there to do whatever they wanted. An if anyone thought that Jason wasn’t going to spend as much time as possible in museums, they clearly didn’t know him very well. He had been once or twice before, but not in  _ years.  _ And he wanted to see everything. He knew he didn’t have the time--one could spend a  _ week  _ going to the museums every day and not see everything, but he had to try.

 

He asked if Tim wanted to accompany him to the Spy Museum ("That's kind of what you write about, right?"). Jason made some terrible excuse about why he invited him along, but truly, he just wanted to spend some time with Tim outside of a hotel room or a book signing. He wanted to just  _ hang out  _ with him. And he decided that was okay. He wasn’t going to stress out about whatever this was anymore, he was just going to enjoy it. Even if he didn’t care much about the stupid Spy Museum

 

Tim, however, thought the Spy Museum was really cool. He was getting new ideas for crime scenes for his sequel, along with all kinds of gadgets he could put in there. There wasn’t much that he didn’t already know from his own research, but it was incredible to see so many artifacts  _ in person  _ in a way he never had before. He walked around like a giddy child looking around at new toys, bright-eyed and with the biggest grin Jason had ever seen.

 

Jason could have written entire novels about the way Tim looked that day. The ways his eyes were lighting up, how excited he got when he learned something new. The two didn't argue even once the entire three hours they spent in that museum. In fact, they acted oddly like old friends. Their hands brushed once when they were walking through a hallway. They avoided each other's gaze when that happened. But if they had looked, they would have seen the blush on each other's face. 

 

In a moment of clear delusion, Jason even asked Tim if he wanted to go out to lunch with him. What had compelled him to do so, he couldn't quite say. He wasn't quite  _ ready _ to say. He just felt the need to spend a little bit more personal time with Tim. 

 

So they went out for Pizza. Tim went for artichoke hearts and onion, where Jason went for the classic pepperoni. When they sat down at the table, Jason couldn't help but ask. 

 

"Why artichoke and onion?" It seemed like the strangest combination a person could possibly pick, which is why it didn’t  _ actually  _ surprise Jason much that Tim had picked it. The kid couldn’t have a normal people opinion on food if he  _ tried.  _

 

Tim shrugged as he took a bite. He took the unusual formality of waiting until he had chewed and swallowed before speaking. "I guess it's just a creature comfort for me. I've been eating it this way for as long as I can remember." 

 

Jason liked knowing what Tim's favorite pizza was. It was something simple, something your friend would know about you.It made them a little less stranger, a little less coworker, and a little more friend. And he liked that. He felt an odd comfort in knowing Tim Drake better. 

 

Jason left the pizza place not long after finishing their meal, claiming that he needed to go iron his suit because it had gotten wrinkled in his suitcase. Truly, it was because he knew he needed to talk to his old friend and try to sort through everything that was going on in his head. 

 

When he left, Tim waited about five minutes before he took out his little notebook again and wrote: 

 

_ October 14th. I wanted to ask you if you feel we've completely misunderstood each other all these years. I wanted to ask if this had been a date. Are you even a person who dates? Why can’t we ever actually talk to each other and ask the important questions? Why do we keep going in circles like this? _

 

*******

 

"Did you just take Tim Drake out on a date?" Dick sounded appalled on the other end of the phone. 

 

Jason knew in the middle of the pizza outing that he had to talk this through with Dick. After their last conversation, he knew that there was something he wasn’t dealing with and that he needed to. He couldn’t let this just sit in his chest, but he didn’t know what to do. In DC, Jason ran a hand through his hair and paced back and forth in his hotel room when he should have been getting ready for the panel. "I don't know! Did I?"

 

"You walked through a museum you knew he loved, and then went out for pizza where I don't doubt you discussed classic literature,” Dick said, clearly trying to tell Jason that he was being a complete idiot about this whole thing.

 

Jason grumbled on his end of the phone. ".....John Green, actually. I swear to God if I hear him romanticize those fucking manic pixie dream girls one more time--"

 

Dick just laughed. "It sounds a lot like a date to me. Did you want it to be a date?" 

 

Jason froze, rubbing the back of his neck absentmindedly, "I don't know...maybe? Do you think Tim took it as a date?"

 

"Why don't you ask him?" Dick said, speaking to Jason like he was the most idiotic man he had ever spoken to in his life. And he kind of was, in a way. When it came to anything having to do with romance, Jason Todd was absolutely clueless. He had never  _ really  _ done anything like that before--not one that ended well, anyway.

 

Jason scoffed, "Yeah, that'll go well. 'Hey Drake, I hated you two weeks ago, but then we started hanging out, and you turned out to be really cool. And then we started fucking and that made things complicated and now I think I’m in love with you. Do you want to count that pizza thing as a date?" 

 

He could practically hear Dick roll his eyes on the other end of the phone. "Well don't do it like  _ that.  _ You're good with words, you'll figure it out."

 

Jason sighed. Dick made it sound so simple. Maybe it was for him, but Jason was never as good at this as Dick was. "Yeah, when I can write them  _ down _ . Not when I'm speaking. Besides, dialogue is his strongpoint, not mine." 

 

"You've picked up on his writing strengths and weaknesses?" Dick almost laughed. God, Jason was ridiculous. He was so obviously head-over-heels that the fact that the two of them hadn’t figured things out by now was beyond him.

 

Jason realized how ridiculous that made him sound. "Yes?" 

 

“You have to do something about this like...yesterday, Jay. This is ridiculous at this point. The ‘we’re not going to talk about it’ trope gets so old so fast, ask any writer or director around here. Your homework is to get your head out of your ass, and  _ woo  _ that boy.”

 

Jason Todd didn’t think he could  _ woo  _ if his life depended on it, but hell. He was going to try. 

 

******

Sometimes, Jason and Tim severely underestimated their fans and their observational skills. Fangirls, when they wanted to, could out-detective even the likes of Tim Drake. Jason and Tim should have known that any secrets they had wouldn’t be secrets for very long, but it was easy to forget when they had other things on their minds.

 

The very first question at the DC panel was asked by a very sweet-looking girl in the front row. 

 

"So I saw you two at Emilio's earlier," she said with a smile. There was mischief in her eyes, though. Like she knew she had them in a trap. It worried Jason, but Tim didn’t seem to be phased.

 

Tim flashed her his winning smile, the one that sent Jason's head spinning. "Why didn't you come say hi to us?" 

 

Her grin widened so that she vaguely resembled the Cheshire cat. "Because you looked like you were on a date. My question is, how long have you two been dating?" 

 

Jason froze, he couldn't look at Tim. What the hell was this? What was going on? How were they supposed to answer that question? 

 

Tim, on the other hand, was calm and collected. Jason thanked God at least one of them was. He answered for the both of them. "That was our first one ever, actually,” he replied calmly with a smile. 

 

Jason's heart was beating faster than was probably healthy. That wasn't the answer he had been expecting from him. Jason had expected Tim to shut down the idea entirely, if not because it was the way he felt, at least for the sake of their careers. But he hadn't. He was going with it, he had referred to it as their first date. 

 

There was a collective "aww!" from the audience, accompanied with one or two "knew it!"s and an "I told you so!" Jason was turning bright red and trying to hide his face. Tim was all smiles, naturally. He was feeling unusually confident. 

 

"What's wrong, Jason?" Tim asked from the seat next to him. 

 

Jason was smiling like an idiot when he looked up and answered honestly. "I’d kinda hoped that was a date,” he admitted.

 

"Are you okay with that?" Tim asked, realizing he probably should have at least conferred with Jason  _ slightly  _ before outing their...whatever this was even more than they already had with hickeys and stolen glances.

 

Jason thought about his for a moment before answering, "Yes...Hey Tim?"

 

"Hmm?" he hummed, smiling over at him.

 

Jason chuckled. "Why can we only talk like people during panels?" 

 


	9. Philadelphia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The writers communicate, Tim snoops, and there are unexpected consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for the feedback. I know I say this every time, but the comments talking about the love for this fic is what keeps me writing it during a tough time. I'm back in school so updates are slowing down in a big way. But thank you again, it means the world to me that y'all are enjoying this. 
> 
> (Apologies if this chapter feels rushed, I really wanted to get it up but didn't have as much time as I would have liked to write!)

Things moved slowly but surely for the two authors after that panel. They were no less brutal towards each other when it came to literature (Jason was still very convinced that Tim was wrong about absolutely everything, and the same was true in reverse), but at the same time, they did things like hold hands when they went on walks. Now when Jason fell asleep on Tim on the plane, he wouldn't wake him up or move him. He would simply let him sleep. It was easier now, in a way. They no longer had to dodge their feelings for each other, they could put it out there in the open. 

 

When they got into Philadelphia, they had a bit of a "confession session", as Tim so coined it, in Jason's hotel room. It was the most awkward hour of their lives so far. Jason wasn’t sure he would ever fully recover from the particular shade of red his face turned. The talk consisted of a lot of silence and awkward fidgeting. Tim finally said what he had wanted to days before at the panel. 

 

"Do you ever feel like we've vastly misunderstood each other?" Tim looked bashful when he asked it, which just made Jason feel warm in a way that he couldn’t quite put into words. It hit him then that he made Tim Drake  _ nervous.  _ That sat strangely with him. But then again, Tim made him nervous right back.

 

He nodded, "'Vastly' is definitely the word I would use. For two people who work with words for a living, we're pretty awful and communicating." And sure, he was kind of parroting what Dick had told him on the phone. But he hadn’t been  _ wrong.  _

 

That made Tim laugh. God Jason loved when Tim laughed. It made him feel like he had done something right. That in itself was a rare feeling for Jason, so when it happened for him, he held onto it with everything he had. And he would do just about anything to bring a smile to Tim Drake’s face at this point. 

 

"Well we're gonna be better at that from now on, okay?” Tim said, scooting closer to Jason on the bed and putting a hand on top of Jason’s. He looked up to the older man with wide, concerned eyes. “No more stupid secrets and awful repression." 

 

Jason smiled, "Deal." He checked his watch, "I'm going to go pick up the takeout. I’m way too tired to cook anything tonight, so you win on the food order. You can come with, or you're more than welcome to stay here." 

 

Tim sighed. He liked getting out of the hotels and exploring the cities that they spent so little time in, even if it was only to explore the local chinese place. But he could practically  _ hear  _ Bart chewing him out for not having the next few chapters of his sequel sent in. "I think I'm gonna stay, if that's alright. I'm behind on a deadline," Tim replied.

 

Jason winced. "Ouch, I know the feeling. No problem. It's not far from here anyway, can't imagine I'll be longer than ten minutes." 

 

Tim nodded. "Alright, see you later." 

 

Jason left then. And Tim really did mean to get even a little bit of writing done. He tried. He opened his laptop and stared at the half-filled word document for ten minutes. But Jason's notebook was sitting _ right there  _ on the hotel desk, practically screaming his name. Now normally he isn't one to snoop in people's notebooks. He knows someone's writing is very private. But that was the notebook he had been scribbling furiously in over the past few days, and Tim was more than a little bit curious as to what he was working on now. He was only going to take a peek. 

 

And then he saw his name. Pages upon pages of beautifully worded description, intricate and elegant metaphors and Tim was breath taken. This was how Jason saw him? Illustrious Science Fiction writer Jason Todd wrote pages equating Tim's beauty to that of the stars. Jason wrote notes on things that Tim had never noticed about  _ himself  _ before. He hadn't ever thought Jason gave his appearance a second thought. But here was endless proof that Jason had built the universe in him. 

 

He had all of this pent-up emotion swelling inside of him, and he didn't know what to do with it. It wasn’t often that someone’s writing moved Tim to tears, but the young man felt on the verge of falling to his knees. He might have, if Jason hadn’t opened the door. 

 

“Drake, what the  _ fuck?”  _ he almost-shouted, storming into the room and snatching his notebook back. The food was left forgotten on the floor as Jason held the notebook close to him like it was something sacred. “Of all the idiotic-- _ you  _ of all people should know better than to read--that’s  _ fucking private,  _ Tim!”

 

“I--I know,” Tim mumbled, still half in a haze of amazement and half realizing he had just messed everything up. “I’m sorry.”

 

Jason pinched the bridge of his nose. He wanted to scream, he wanted to lash out that Tim had just breached the trust he had formed in him. But more than anything, Jason was  _ scared.  _ The things that he had written in that book were  _ raw  _ and  _ real  _ and  _ intense.  _ And this was all so new that he feared that Tim would find it too much and want to back out. He didn’t know what to do. He looked down at the floor and shook his head.

 

“Get out, Tim,” he whispered. “Please.”

 

Tim  _ shattered.  _ “Jason, I--”

 

“Go,” he urged. 

 

Tim left. He went to his room and sat on his bed and wondered how he could be such an idiot. He knew that Jason’s notebook was the most private thing he owned. What the hell had he been doing going through it? If Jason had looked through  _ his  _ notebook--

 

Tim stood up and pulled it out of his carry on bag, running his fingers tentatively over the cover. He had written a letter to Jason Todd every day of the tour. Sure, there weren’t as many metaphors, but the writing was equally personal. And well, an eye for an eye. 

 

Jason wouldn’t open the door when Tim knocked, but the notebook was thin enough to slip through the crack between the door and the floor. Ten minutes later, there was a knock on Tim’s door. Jason stood on the other side, dumbfounded and mouth agape. 

 

Jason held the notebook out to him, silent for a moment before the writer began to stumble over his words. “Tim, I--”

 

“I know,” he said softly, a smile creeping on his face. “Me too. Come inside.”

 

They were on Tim’s bed, and neither of them spoke for a while. What could one say to another when their entire soul had been brought before you? How were you meant to convey all that you felt and make it sound significant?

 

“I shouldn’t have read it,” Tim said after a while. “You were right. I know better. I’m sorry.”

 

“I overreacted,” Jason said. “I was afraid the words on those pages would make you run. And besides, it’s not my best work--”

 

Tim had to interrupt him. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. "Jay, are you kidding? That was beautifully written and I...I can't believe you see me like that, the way you said. You made me sound beautiful. You made me seem like so much more than I am." 

 

Jason shook his head, "No I didn't. I call it like I see it, Tim. I don't exaggerate." 

 

Tim was taken aback, "So that's really how you see me?" 

 

Jason replied by placing soft kisses on his collarbone. It was easy, and it was enough. 

 

*****

This panel was different than all the others. If only because this was the first one that they did where both of them knew they were in a relationship. Or at the very least, in the budding of one. If the two authors had a hard time keeping the fans on the track of  _ novel  _ questions beforehand, it was almost impossible now. 

Tim snapped. Tim, the young prodigy who was so excellent at relating to the younger fans and loved to talk to them about their personal lives. Tim, who Jason had never seen more than give a neutral expression around the people who bought his books, lost it during the Philadelphia panel. His tone was harsh, almost unforgiving as he snapped, “Can we please keep the questions to the reason we’re here in the first place?”

The room went silent. Jason didn’t know how to react at first. Every day that the two of them were together, he was learning more about Tim Drake. But even he had never seen him break the facade of the composed, happy writer. This was the first time that image of him seemed to crack. Jason managed to recover, get everything back on track, and the rest of the panel went on without incident. 

In the greenroom, however, Tim sunk onto the couch and buried his face in his hands. He shouldn’t have snapped like that. The people out there were the reason he could have a book tour in the first place. He was  _ nothing  _ without his fans, and he had spoken rudely to them. He couldn't believe himself. He would have to do a long twitter apology or something for damage control. He couldn’t let the fans think he didn’t care about them or the things they wanted to know about his life. He couldn’t--

Jason sat next to him and put a hand on his knee. Jason had been in this game for five years now. He knew how hard it could be to want nothing more than to talk about the story you had put your whole being into, and the fans only wanting to know what your favorite bands to listen to are. This was different, of course, because it was so inherently personal. But Tim was new to this side of things. He would learn. This was the first step. 

“It’s okay, you know,” Jason said. “You’re not going to get in trouble with Bruce. And the fans aren’t going to hate you. You had an off moment. I almost flipped a table in LA.”

Tim laughed and rested his head on Jason’s shoulder. How could this man so easily make him feel so at ease? He already felt better about the whole situation, and all Jason had to do was talk to him. “It’s harder than I thought it would be,” Tim admitted. “Being someone people...look to.”

“You can’t be on the ball all the time. It’s okay to have a moment where you’re human,” Jason said. “You’re not an AI, Tim, as much as you might wish you were. Shit happens. The fans get it. And honestly? You share so much of yourself with them that they should be damn grateful that you didn’t snap sooner.”

 

“I guess,” Tim sighed. “I still feel bad about it, though.”

“You’re allowed. Just...take a deep breath next time. Only one of us is allowed to be the explosive one, and I’ve already taken up that role. So you’re going to need to back off on that front,” Jason teased. 

“I wouldn’t want to step on your toes,” Tim chuckled. “And hey...thanks.” He didn’t quite know what he was thanking Jason for. Maybe for calming him down now. Maybe for knowing how this felt in a way very few people could. Maybe for loving him. Maybe everything. 

 


	10. Manhattan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim goes a little wild in K-Town, Jason has an identity crisis, and Bruce pays a visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies that this chapter took so long to get up and that the chapter is a little rushed and short. This semester has been kicking me hard. But I hope you continue to enjoy as the tour winds down with its last 2-3 stops!
> 
> Please keep all the love coming, it means the world!

Jason loved Manhattan. Partially because it reminded him so much of Gotham. It was dirty, and loud, and full of people who didn’t give two shits about the strangers around them so long as they got where they were going in a timely fashion. Plus, you could get excellent food on the street for pretty darn cheap. And as much as he loved the place, Tim was in his element.

 

Tim was never happier than when he was buying ridiculous things in the Korean shops in K-town, gushing over the snacks and the beauty products, and the silly trinkets. Jason left Tim to his own devices after their dinner in K-Town and that proved to be a mistake. When he came back to the hotel, he greeted Jason with bags filled with the most absurd things in the world. Spicy looking foods with packaging they couldn’t read, face masks that claimed to be infused with snail, and a ridiculous amount of things with various kpop idols on them. (Tim assured Jason that they were for Kon and Bart, but Jason wasn’t sure how much he could trust him with that.)

 

“Why the hell did you buy all this, Timbo? You know with the stuff we’re gonna get on the meet and greets you’re gonna need like, six extra suitcases, and that charge is gonna cost you a pretty penny.”

 

“So I’ll pay it,” Tim shrugged like it was nothing. 

 

It was moments like this that reminded Jason that Tim came from money. Not Bruce Wayne level money, per se. But money enough that he didn’t worry about things like extra charges on his suitcases. It was something he could pay off, something he didn’t even really have to think about. It wasn’t on his radar.

 

It was the kind of thing Jason had to think about. He was much better off now than he had been before his Wayne Publishing days, for certain. But he still had to think about rent, and groceries, and the extra charge for more suitcases. Sure, he could convince Bruce to write it off as a cost of the trip--most of it was on his dime anyway. But Jason couldn’t do that. Jason had a small bit of pride that hold him the little things that needed to be handled--he needed to do it on his own, without any Wayne assistance. 

********

 

It’s at the Manhattan panel that Jason almost has an existential breakdown. He’s honestly shocked that it hadn’t happened sooner. How had it taken this long, almost at the end of their tour, for someone to ask him this question?

 

A well meaning young boy in the back of the concert hall asked Jason what he planned on doing now that he was going to be on his writing hiatus. 

 

And Jason didn’t know. He’d managed to smile through an answer about the condo in Vermont he would be renting not long after the tour was over--this was news to Tim, they would have to talk about this later--but on the inside, Jason was in a panic. He had never not been a writer in some way, shape, or form. He had been scribbling in notebooks since he was a child. And once he reached his young adulthood, he was speed-typing at his crummy laptop so he could send out writing to anyone that might read it. Once Bruce took him in, he had been living his writer’s life for five years. Five years of writing something he loved, characters he could grieve for, a world he spent sleepless nights exploring. 

 

It would be gone soon. The tour would finish, and they would go back to Gotham. Three weeks after that, Jason would be off to his condo in Vermont for at least a year or two as per Bruce’s orders. The world he had spent so much time building would fade into the distance as Tim Drake’s was coming on the horizon. And Jason was proud of Tim for that. 

 

But he was grieving for himself too. Tim noticed. 

 

On their way back to the hotel, Tim took Jason’s hand in his and rested his head on the older male’s shoulder. “What’s the story, morning glory?” he hummed. 

 

This is where Jason would make a quip about what a stupid turn of phrase that was. He would remind Tim that he hated cliches. He might shove him off of his shoulder and tell him to grow up. He couldn’t. He didn’t have the energy today. 

 

“What am I if I’m not writing, Tim?” Jason asked, looking down at his feet. “Bruce told me to take a creative break. To go be Henry David Fucking Thoreau for a little while. And he’s right, I need it, but...”

 

“But this is a part of yourself that you feel like you’re leaving behind,” Tim finished. “You’ve been doing this so long that not doing it makes you feel like you’ve lost a limb.”

 

Jason swallows hard. He doesn’t know how to tell Tim that he doesn’t think he knows how to be a person without writing. He doesn’t have to. Tim already knows. 

 

*****

Bruce is waiting for them in Jason’s hotel room when they get back. He hadn’t told either of them he was coming, but rather simply showed up and was sat down on the desk chair in Jason’s room reading an issue of the New York Times. 

Jason almost had a heart attack. “ _ Christ,  _ old man, you could have shot Tim a text so we could have known you were coming.”

Bruce shrugged but didn’t say any more on the matter. Bruce never thought anything of dropping by uninvited places. He assumed people would adjust to the fact that he felt he needed to be in certain places at certain times. Tim put up with it better than Jason did. But then again, Jason had given Bruce plenty of allowances when he had first started out too. 

“There’s matters to discuss,” Bruce said simply. “Have a seat.”

The two writers sat awkwardly down on Jason’s bed, and Jason felt too much like he was getting called down to the principal’s office. He had the same level of nerves, was still racking his brain for anything he might have done wrong that could warrant Bruce coming all the way from Gotham to talk to them.

“It’s about... _ us,  _ isn’t it?” Tim said softly, nerves creeping into his voice. 

Bruce nodded. His face was stony, Jason had never been able to read the guy. He could be furious at them or elated for them and Jason wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. It drove him up the wall. “I think the way you handled it was poor. There should have been discussions with the PR team about how to announce this in a clean manner.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Bruce, we’re authors, not movie stars. Sure, our fans really like us, but the average joe doesn’t know who we are or give two shits about Tim’s hickeys. It’s not like we’re ruining some on-set romance some director had planned.”

“The point is, Jason,” Bruce said, looking to the older writer. “Wayne Publishing isn’t a traditional publishing company. We house only writers that make a good social presence. We want the people reading these books to  _ make  _ you like celebrities. They should feel like they’re your friends. This is a media-driven world. The fans need to know you outside of your pages. They need to look up to you. When you act, you’re not just acting for you. You’re acting for Barbara, and Kathy, and the others. Your image reflects on them. I cannot stop you from doing...whatever this is you’re doing. But you need to have more regular talks with our PR team. You need to be aware of how you look to the outside.”

Jason wanted to laugh.  But he knew he couldn’t say anything to him. Bruce was his boss. What he said was law, and Jason was going to have to grit his teeth and deal with it.

 

Tim, noticing that if Jason opened his mouth only fire would come out, spoke up instead. “We’ll keep that in mind, Bruce, thank you. Would you like to stay for dinner? There’s a great place nearby Jason and I found.”

Bruce simply shook his head and took his leave with a faint goodbye to the boys. Tim slumped down on the bed. All Tim ever wanted to do was impress Bruce. Any disappointment or coldness from him felt like a personal blow. 

Jason wrapped an arm around his shoulder and held him close. “We’re gonna be fine, you know. Bruce can’t tell us shit. We’re adults. He talks like Babs and Kathy haven’t had their own stuff.”

Tim shrugged. “It still sucks, though. He scolds us when we’re fighting, and he scolds us when we’re getting along. It feels like we can’t win with him.”

“We can’t,” Jason said simply. “Listen, I love this job, but Bruce is a piece of work. The quicker you come to terms with that, the better off you’ll be.”

Tim grumbled, but settled into Jason’s touch. He knew he was right. Jason had been at this longer than he had, he knew what he was talking about. But it didn’t frustrate Tim any less. Just when he thought he had something good...Bruce tried to make it sound like they were doing something bad. 

Well, Tim wasn’t going to let that get to him. He could hear Jason Todd’s heartbeat. And he was the happiest he had been in ages.

 

 


End file.
